


Kingdom

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gladiators, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28023639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A king pays the price for his kingship.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 8
Collections: Anonymous





	Kingdom

The crowd cheers as the opponents enter the duel arena. One from the left, one from the right. Both are tall and muscular, clad in leather and cloth. One, blond-haired and hawk-eyed, carries two needle-sharp knives. The other, dark-skinned and dark-haired, carries no weapon.  
On the face of it, the outcome of the match seems obvious. Of course the blond with the knives will be victorious. How could an unarmed man overcome such a disadvantage?  
In the place of honour, above the spectators, a richly-dressed young man reclines in an ornate throne inlaid with jewels, his elbow on the arm of the throne and his chin resting on his hand. He looks interested, though unconcerned with the spectacle, though his fate depends on the outcome of the match.  
This man looks barely out of his teens, too young to hold the reins of the kingdom in his hands, yet he is the king. Many would agree that he is a good king, wise beyond his years and handsome as well.  
King Aleki's jade eyes linger on the dark-skinned man, taking in the ripple of muscles beneath oiled skin and the focused set of the man's face. His eyes slide half-closed as he thinks on what a farce this is.  
Goldore is a strange kingdom, with a history coloured by conflict. For centuries known, the kingdom has been besieged by bitter civil wars as powerful families vie for the right to rule. However, in a move that baffled the rest of the world, Goldore recently found a way to solve the conflicts. Their ruler will be decided by a brutal tournament held every five years. The winner of the tournament is the uncontested ruler for the length of the term, and beyond, if they could win successive tournaments.  
However, the nobles did not want to bloody their own hands in such a ruthless tournament. It was decided that each candidate would choose a fighter to represent them during the tournament. Most of those representatives were slaves, their cooperation bought with the promise of a comfortable life should they win.  
King Aleki has absolute faith in his representative, the dark-haired man patiently waiting for the match to start. His slave has won the tournament for him once before.  
The horn blows, causing Aleki to straighten and the final match to begin. The blond moves forward, intent on finishing his opponent quickly. His knives are held in each hand, silver blades glinting wickedly in the sunlight. Castorin steel, Aleki believes. An expensive and rare weapon.  
Aleki has no idea of the slave's name or identity but he knows the man's owner well. Samon sits among the other nobles, his own eyes as hawkish as his slave's. Aleki isn't surprised that Samon would spare no coin to defeat him. Samon belongs to a faction that is ill-pleased with some of Aleki's reforms.  
But his slave has no chance of beating Aleki's Gerard, even with those priceless blades.  
Gerard doesn't bother dodging the knives. He risks the kiss of steel in order to punch his opponent in the ribs. Aleki fancies that he can almost hear the sound of bone breaking. Blood drips down Gerard's arm, leaving dark splotches on the sand. Gerard does not flinch.  
The blond aims a knife for Gerard's throat, but the move is a feint. Aleki wonders if he is frightened yet. If the knowledge that his reward for losing this match will be death has sunk in yet.  
It will, soon.  
As the match continues, the crowd screaming as blood rains down on the sand of the arena, Aleki watches as Samon's face tightens in frustration. It isn't going well for his slave. Though Gerard has been stung many times by the knives, he shows no sign of slowing down.  
Aleki lets no trace of his own emotions paint themselves on his face, even as he watches Gerard lift the blond up into the air as if he weighs no more than a baby. Aleki can't see the expression on the blond's face, but he imagines that it is twisted in terror.  
The crowd roars in appreciation as Gerard mercilessly snaps the slave's spine. He lets the man fall limply into the sand, face smashing into a puddle of blood. Gerard stands above him, face still entirely devoid of expression. It turns briefly to meet Aleki's. Aleki returns the stare, though his face remains blank.  
Then Gerard bends and grabs a fistful of his opponent's hair. He lifts the limp man up by his hair, then spits in his face.  
Aleki is appalled by the callousness and cruelty of the act, however, inside he is satisfied. His position is safe for the next five years.

  
Aleki's slave kneels before him on the carpet of his room. Gerard's cuts and bruises have been tended to by the most skilled healers that coin could buy. He is naked, his skin smelling of fresh soap.  
Aleki is fully dressed in his fine robes, jewels still entwined in his long hair, his face still bearing the makeup accentuating his pretty features.  
Gerard's head lifts to survey him. Though he is still clothed, Aleki can feel his gaze prickling his bare skin. His breath hitches slightly.  
One of Gerard's massive hands rises to rest on Aleki's thigh. Had it belonged to anyone else, Aleki would have ordered that the offending appendage be removed and the offender sent to the whorehouses. You didn't need hands or feet to work there. Just a tight hole to fit a fat cock in.  
Aleki is familiar with those whorehouses. He was born in one, the unwanted son of a beautiful whore. He had no idea who his father had been. While bent over, breath moaning out between thrusts, he'd often wondered if the cock that had seeded his mother's womb was the same one pounding into him.  
Gerard's fat fingers deftly untie the sash at Aleki's waist. The soft fabric slips out of his hands to splay itself across the carpet. The robe parts to reveal a thin inner layer of white fabric that comes to just above Aleki's knees. Aleki's face flushes as Gerard's nose nuzzles his crotch through the fabric. His big hands cradle Aleki's thin hips, the heat of his flesh radiating through the cloth.  
Aleki's fingers slide through short black strands of hair as he feels his arousal swell. Gerard mouths his cock through the fabric as he holds Aleki in place. Aleki offers no resistance though he longs for more than what Gerard is giving him.  
The dampness on the material isn't only due to Gerard's saliva. As Gerard expertly works the king into a state of excitement, Aleki's cock begins to leak.  
A soft whimper leaves Aleki's mouth as Gerard leans back to stare up at his face. He turns it away, embarrassed by the heat in his cheeks.  
He is a king. He should be behind some pretty young maiden, planting his seed in fertile soil. But Aleki knows that his seed will never bear fruit. It will spill across sweat-damp skin, soak into expensive sheets, splatter across wooden walls. But never coat the walls of a woman's womb.  
It is a sacrifice that Aleki has reluctantly made in order to gain the kingship. He does not have the wealth or the noble standing of other candidates so he has traded his most valuable asset: his body.  
Gerard's big hands turned the king around, bringing Aleki to face his bed. It looks inviting, red and gold covers draped over the soft mattress. Behind him, Gerard stands. Aleki hears him shifting, his breaths heavy in the still room. Aleki is tense with anticipation, tempered with a small amount of dread. Though they've done this many times before, Aleki is always afraid that his young, pliant body will break, just like that of Gerard's opponent earlier that day.  
Aleki's feet shift uneasily, toes digging into the carpet. His cock aches, missing the warmth of Gerard's attention.  
A pressure on the back of his head sends Aleki's hands to the mattress as he bends forward. The red in his cheeks deepens as he imagines what he must look like.  
Though he is a king, he will always be a whore.  
Gerard lifts the back of his inner clothing up, revealing the king's pert, round butt cheeks. A meaty slap forces a cry out of Aleki's mouth.  
Gerard pants behind him, poised to take his true prize for his effort in the ring. Aleki isn't sure why the slave feels that a king's ass is worth risking his life for, but Gerard's tastes in sexual matters have always left him confused and worried.  
Sometimes he wonders if the price he's paying for ultimate power is too great. If, one day, Gerard will take more from him than his dignity and pride. If, one day, it will be the slave sitting on the throne, Aleki naked and kneeling before him, the taste of cum hot and bitter on his tongue.  
"Hold your ass open for me."  
Gerard's deep voice sends a shiver down Aleki's spine. He obeys, cheek pressing into his covers as his fingers grip and spread his own ass wide. Gerard's fat digit nudges at his entrance. Aleki sucks in a sharp breath, readying himself for the sting of pain that is sure to accompany Gerard's entrance. Though Aleki's hole is familiar with the stretch of cock, Gerard's habit of taking him with little or no lubricant brings tears to his eyes.  
Gerard's finger pushes mercilessly in, jabbing at the sensitive inner walls of Aleki's ass.  
"Does this bring back memories?"  
Hair sticks to Aleki's lips and cheeks as he hides his face in his covers. The feel of a foreign object inside him always takes him right back to his early days in the whorehouse, as Gerard knows well. He can almost smell the thick scent of perfume in the air, used to mask the scent of sweat and body fluid. He can feel the cheap, scratchy fabric of the covers beneath him and hear the heavy pants of the fat noble fucking him into the bed, frame creaking with every greedy thrust.  
Gerard stretches him methodically, deliberately avoiding Aleki's prostate. Despite this, Aleki's cock is hard and begging, his balls tight.  
Three slick fingers pump Aleki's hole, spreading and scissoring sensitive walls. "How does it feel, to know that you're a king now, but all that has changed is that you get fucked into expensive silk instead of cheap cotton?"  
"Gerard..."  
Aleki hisses the name out, wishing that his slave would dispense with the belittling. Wishing that his words didn't hurt so much.  
Gerard's fingers slide out of Aleki's grasping hole. Aleki's fingers dig into the flesh of his cheeks. His hole pulses, feeling empty and needy.  
Seconds later, Aleki feels a pressure against his hole. The head of Gerard's shaft probes eagerly at it.  
"A king's ass is no different than a cheap whore's," Gerard says as he forces himself inside.  
Aleki squirms and writhes as Gerard's erection presses into his prostate. He gasps out short, strained moans.  
"And a slave's cock is no different than a king's. Don't ever forget that you get fucked on these fancy sheets because of me. Without me, you'd still be in that cheap whorehouse, your body a toy for the pleasure of any man with a coin in his pocket."  
Aleki doesn't feel like a king anymore as Gerard begins to pound into him, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing in his ears. His nice clothes and rich surroundings mean nothing. All the power he wields over the kingdom and its citizens means nothing. In these dark hours, alone with his slave, he is what he has always been. Not a king, but a cheap hole for a man's cock.


End file.
